


It's hard to fix something broken.

by arfrid



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Mainly angst, Maxine "Max" Mayfield has ADHD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27820699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arfrid/pseuds/arfrid
Summary: max + that one time she threw the stapler at the window during a mental breakdown(psst, it's angstier than you'd think)
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Jim "Chief" Hopper & Maxine "Max" Mayfield
Comments: 10
Kudos: 39





	It's hard to fix something broken.

Max stares at the window. The panic from the breakdown that ended two seconds ago is ebbing away and a newfound panic replacing it.

She runs towards the broken window, putting her face through the broken glass and looking down.

There’s the stapler she threw at it.

Oh shit. Oh _shit_.

Her mind’s going into overdrive. El and Hopper aren’t home, but what about when they came back, and saw the broken glass, they would surely kick her out. Panic combined with guilt is making it hard to think, hard to _breathe_.

Fuck!

She quickly  runs outside, flinching slightly at the sound of the door slamming, but  _this_ was more important.

Rapidly picking up the pieces, in the panic she registers a bit of pain; she accidentally cut her wrist, and blood was running down her forearm. She stares at it for a second, and another, before shaking her head as if coming out of a trance and returning to the task at hand. She accidentally cut herself multiple times, wincing each time it happened, but mostly ignoring it. 

In one arm is a bunch of sharp glass,  so  with her free hand she picks  up the stapler, ignoring the pain blossoming in her forearm. Setting down the shards of glass and the stapler, cutting her arms more in the process, she looks back at the window. 

There’s nothing she can do about it. Impulsively, she reaches out and touches a spike, immediately pulling back and sucking her finger. Yeah, that’s broken beyond repair.

She starts hyperventilating.  _You broke the window. Guilty. You did a bad thing. You are going to get punished._ Those thoughts swirl around her head like a hurricane, and she puts her hands over her ears to block them out.

It doesn’t work. In fact, they seem louder now, more insistent.

_ YOU BROKE THE WINDOW. _

_ GUILTY. _

_ YOU DID A BAD THING. _

_ YOU ARE GOING TO BE PUNISHED. _

They repeat like broken record, making the guilt expand in her chest. She screams a little, to at least make a noise louder than her thoughts.

Through her haze, she looks at the clock placed on the wall. 

She’s got, at most, fifteen minutes until El and Hop come back. The panic overcomes the guilt. She remembers being pushed into the wall, the developing bruises on her face, back, everywhere, those few times where she’d be locked in her room with no food all day.

_I wonder which one it’s going to be,_ Max thinks darkly. Shaking her head, she remembers what she was told before:  _Accept your punishment. You deserve it,_ ~~ _filthy brat._ ~~

Her entire body shaking, she thinks about places she could hide, eventually deciding on the  closet .

She runs towards it, hiding inside  and going in the corner farthest from the door and closing said door. Fishing her phone from her pocket, she turned off notifications and waited for punishment.

16 minutes later, though it feels like a lifetime, she hears the tinkering of glass and hasty footsteps. She holds her breath. Maybe she won’t get caught.

_ You are literally hiding in the most obvious place right now. _

_ Shut up,  _ she thought internally.

She hears muffled voices through the door.

“Where _is_ she?” comes a voice, obviously El.

“I don’t know… Check your room? There might have been a break in. The window’s broken.” comes a deeper, more gruff voice. Hopper. She inhales sharply, then puts her hand over her mouth.

The footsteps in her room pause.  _Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!_

A voice murmurs something too quiet for Max to hear.

Then the closet door opens suddenly and loudly. She makes herself as small as possible, shaking hard and covering her face.

_ Whatever the punishment _ , she said internally,  _ please don’t make it be bad. _

“Max…?” Hopper murmurs. Max flinches but nods. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

He puts his hand on her leg and she flinches again, giving the smallest whimper. The hand moves away.

There’s an exchange in whispers and there’s movement outside. A warmer, softer hand grabs hers, slowly taking them off her face.

“Max.” El says firmly. “Look at me.” Max opens her eyes and sees El, her expression soft and her eyes caring, not at all what she’s used to.

El looks down at her cuts, and her eyes widen. She traces a finger near one, and Max tenses even more.

“What happened?” She asks softly. Max is still shaking, but chokes down a sob and explains in a weak and unsteady voice about what happened.

“I- It’s okay i-if you… h-hurt me… I’ll deserve it.” Max tells them, more telling herself than Hopper and El.

There’s such a thick silence hanging in the air, she’s sure she’s said the wrong thing, and is ready to profusely apologize when the most unexpected thing happens.

El wraps her arms around Max, holding her tightly against her chest. “I’m so, so sorry that you were left there for so long.” 

Tears collect in Max’s eyes, and she’s too shocked to do anything else than splutter a brief, “W-what?-”

Hopper’s big arms wrap around her too, and Max finally understands and wraps her arms around El’s torso, holding her so tightly that she think she might cut off the brunette’s circulation.  Tears run down her face.

Hopper’s apologizing too, similar things to what El said. 

_ So this is what found family means. _

El watches Max’s the steady rising and falling of her chest. Hopper had disinfected and bandaged Max’s hands earlier, and now Max was sleeping in El’s bed, too exhausted to go to her own.

Hopper walks in, his eyes sad.

“I wish I’d gotten her out sooner.” Hopper tells her, whispering as to not wake the sleeping girl in the bed. “I knew there had been multiple domestic disturbances but did _nothing_.”

El shakes her head. “We couldn't have known. Max said she was picking fights and we believed her. If its anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I’m her  _girlfriend_ . I should have recognized…”

Hopper’s expression turns angry, his jaw set. “It’s Neil’s fault.”

El nods, still staring at Max. “I can’t believe she thought we would hurt her. Doesn’t she know she’s more important than a goddamn window?!”

Max moves in her sleep, clearly disturbed, and turns away. They watch her for a second more before Hopper responds.

“I don’t think she does.”

And it’s those two words cut into El’s heart like a rusty dagger. They’re so  _harsh_ , so  _sad_ , that El wants to take them back and hide them in a box somewhere, preferably outer space.

This whole... ordeal reminds that while they might have gone a milestone in terms of Max’s health, there was still a lot more to go.


End file.
